


Princess Ningen

by lameafpun



Category: Mononoke-hime | Princess Mononoke
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Princess of the humans, Reader-Insert, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-05 06:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11007684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lameafpun/pseuds/lameafpun
Summary: It wasn't the first time you'd become fixated onto a human. Neither Moro, San, Ichi or Ni would approve, but you were mountains and mountains away from them.





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn’t the first time you had become fixated onto a human. The first one was a little girl who had wandered into the forest one day nearly six years before - a small, wispy looking thing who had been far too mature for her own good and too cynical for her age. Which was - you actually didn’t know, she never told you. 

The second was an old woman who had fallen down a ravine deep in the forest - a traveling wise woman. She’d died a few minutes after you’d found her. Her old wrinkled face had been sweaty and caked with a layer of dirt and yet, despite the filth that covered her elegant robes, she had been peaceful as her life slipped away. 

You had marked the ravine with one of the periwinkle mountain flowers.

The third was a little boy who had been a part of a traveling band of humans - Moro had said they were called gypsies. He had been small, dark skinned and light haired, and filled with a restless energy that made all the others in the camp put their head in the hands in exasperation. He had made you smile as you looked on from the thick foliage that surrounded them, his practical jokes and various acrobatic tricks keeping your attention for hours as you fought to conceal laughs from underneath the brush. 

San had scolded you harshly when you came back, the moon already high in the sky. She’d made you promise not to go after the ‘stupid humans,’ to not involve yourselves in people who hurt and bruised the forest. You’d kept that promise for as long as you could, and the last one wasn’t entirely your fault but - 

The fourth…the fourth was special. 

You had been traveling across the lands, setting off on your own journey to find a pack of your own. Having no particular direction except for ‘far from Moro, San, Ich,i and Ni’ you set off, taking only the clothes on your back and the knife you’d taken from a wayward samurai who’d drifted too far from his men. (You remembered him vividly; dark, black-brown hair that had become greasy in the absence of washing, scarred skin and dirty, ripped robes that stunk of unwashed human.)

The forest was quiet, yet lively. The chatter of various bugs and beetles and the light twitter of birds filled your ears as you picked your way over the grassy forest floor. The trees had been getting thinner and thinner as you walked, nothing like the sturdy ones back home where you couldn’t even reach all around the trunks. (Admittedly, you were just upset about leaving and the trees were bearing the brunt of your grumpiness.)

You had kept walking somewhat mindlessly, stopping once in a while to climb the occasional interesting tree as the sun gradually disappeared over the horizon. 

In the cool night air, settled on a particularly stable branch high off the ground, is where the world seemed to stop every night. There was the occasional hoot of an owl, the chirp of crickets that filled the forest. Altogether, it was a beautiful symphony that you’d fallen asleep to every night since your departure. 

The forest was your home; you knew every beat of its heart as if it was your own - which is why the rustle and pounding hoofbeats made your eyes snap open, hand reaching for the knife at your hip. The handle was worn smooth and smooth, and although it had been made for hands bigger than yours, it fit into your grip comfortably. 

The branch beneath you shook as you slid into a crouch, the bark of the tree biting into the skin of your knee as your heart leapt into your throat, muscles tensing. 

The hoofbeats were alarming frequent, a staccato rhythm that pressed down on your chest. It grew in volume, light at first, until it was almost upon you. 

Breath quickening, heart pounding in your ears, you gripped onto the branch as if it was your lifeline, frantic eyes scanning the forest around you. 

A red figure with immense gray horns burst through the leaves, four-legged and so quick it appeared and disappeared before you could react. 

However, a hay colored lump sitting on the back of whatever that had been had caught your attention. 

-

San would have killed you if she saw what you were doing. Hiding behind trees and foliage, ducking into the long grass, all in pursuit of the young human. He was just so interesting - for a human. 

He was quiet, solemn, stern yet kind (something you saw in his interactions with the strange red elk), and, admittedly, he was pretty. For a human. Wild brown hair that had been cut messily into bangs, dark blue eyes that would darken even further like a stormy, roiling ocean when he was frustrated (he was so bad at fishing it was almost laughable) but shone like the sun off the water of the great lake near the cave when he was happy, or satisfied with something (when he was looking at his elk). 

-

Ashitaka was - had been a member of the Emishi, well trained in hunting, gathering and connecting with the forest. Yes, it took him more than a few days to notice, and it had been Yakul who had noticed the strange presence that seemed to shadow them across the mountains, but he had caught on. The strange rustling of the grass around them and the occasional thwack of a shoved branch became all the more noticeable after that. And the little packets of herbs and fish he found in the morning next to Yakul suddenly made a bit more sense. 

They became a bit careless after a while - glimpses of white fur and dark blue, flowing cloth became the most exciting part of his day. It filled his dreams, the mystery of the person - spirit? - behind the midnight blue cloth. 

-

Another day of traveling had passed uneventfully for Ashitaka. Well, almost. Out of the corner of his eye, around noon, he’d seen the top of a head. Not much, sure, but it’d been enough for him to see a mop of (h/c) hair and a flash of (e/c) eyes before green swallowed them up. 

That night, (e/c) eyes stare down on him - but it isn’t creepy or alarming or anything like that, like the first few days. They’re protecting him from the things that are hiding in the shadows. 

He wants to protect them, his own guardian angel - after finding out exactly what they were. (Though he can’t imagine it being another demon - hopefully, he didn’t have luck that terrible.)

-

The small campfire crackled, the pot settled on the grate above it bubbling. Ashitaka sat close to it, gazing into the sludgy, off-white porridge. Dried sweat stuck to him under his tunic and he really was considering just throwing caution to the wind and taking off his outer garments because it was so damn hot. The fact that he had to move around rocks and miniature boulders to protect the fire that was cooking his dinner hadn’t helped, either. 

Luckily, the town he’d decided to stop in had been abandoned, made uninhabitable by a flood. Unless there were any restless spirits still wandering around, he’d be fine. 

Something collapsed in the house opposite Ashitaka, The tell-tale creak of wood and the shattering of clay tiles was nothing extraordinary - but the muffled shout of pain was. 

He was sprinting to the house before he could properly formulate a plan but then he was climbing up the side of the house, clambering up the wall like a spider, adrenaline pumping and vision so painfully sharp. Body tightly coiled, he crested the wall and heaved himself over to the other side, through the hole in the sloped roof. 

It was pitch black and little bits of debris rained down on him, his jump through the collapsed roof shaking the unstable foundation of the house. Through the inky darkness he followed the sound of shifting wood and low, animalistic growls. 

“Hello?” He speaks into the darkness. “My name is Ashitaka and I wish to help you - you fell through the roof.” His voice is calm, even, and nothing but reassuring. It makes the warm, light something in your chest pulse and bloom. 

“Ashitaka…” He nearly trips over a hunk of rubble. Your voice is smooth, low (but that’s probably because of the pain), and has an intriguingly wild quality to it, like you didn’t entirely know how to handle human words. “(name).”

Something moves to his right, a rock falls with a crack-crick-rumble and a labored groan fills the rotting house. 

“Why is everything in human villages always so _fragile_?” He thinks he hears them say, but then he feels his foot come into contact with something soft and he’s scooping them up off the floor. The disappointment and exasperation of the statement nearly made him smile. The scolding tone you held, as if you were shaking your head at the building around you, sent whatever thought of controlling himself spiraling and the corners of his lips twitched. 

The door had been partially blocked by a fallen beam. Ashitaka only had to duck, pulling your body closer to him, and emerged into the moonlight.

He wanted so, so badly to look you in the face, to see the blue and the (e/c) and the dark, tannish brown that had filled his dreams for weeks. The curiosity, the need to finally know, burned beneath his skin - but caring for you came first. 

He felt your eyes on him as he carried you, twin flames that made fire creep around his face. 

Yakul glanced over lazily as he approached the campfire. The red elk had eaten before Ashitaka had and was about to go to sleep, by the hazy look of his grass green eyes. 

He set you down close to the fire, sliding his arms out from under you gently. He could feel the way your legs were tensed, the way your back arched away from him. As he pulled away, settling in a crouch, he finally allowed himself to look at you. 

His breath caught in his throw, eyes widening minutely. You were…beautiful. The grime and dust that had been showered down on you from the collapsed house was washed away in an instant, your eyes shining (probably from the pain but you’d be able to look radiant in any situation), pushing away the darkness of the night. There was something in your gaze, something that reminded him of a wolf - fierce and determined and - 

You don’t wince but there’s a shift in your gaze that reminds him - you’re injured. 

As he was getting out some cloth from his pack, you let your own questions out into the air. 

“So Ashitaka…what are you doing so far away from home?” 

-

Yakul doesn’t mind letting you ride on his back. He’s already had ample time to get used to you and now that you aren’t hiding in the trees, he actually seems to like you. He’s the nicest elk you’ve ever met. 

Ashitaka is, undoubtedly, the most interesting human you’ve ever met. He’s too kind for his own good and innocent, still believing in the inherent goodness of everyone in the world. 

Being so close to him has only served to get you more acquainted with his facial features. His eyes are stormy and like the shine of the sun off the lake, but they’re old, too. Like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. You’ve seen him staring off into space, longingly, remorsefully, as if he was thinking about the million ways it could have gone right. (It’s a stare you recognize). But he manages to shake it off in a few seconds and in even fewer he’s glancing over at you, smiling slowly but genuinely, and asking about your leg that had been fractured under the weight of the roof. 

-

You sleep under the stars next to Yakul and Ashitaka, even though you know that Irontown isn’t far at all - it can’t be, considering how long you’d been traveling, and there was a scent of putrid smoke in the air that made your skin crawl and your nose itch. It had been getting stronger and stronger each day, making your eyes water in disgust and sadness as the once beautiful forest around the island disappeared, remaining only in your memories. 

When you explain it to Ashitaka, telling him the story of the animals and trees that had once lived, he understands. He always did, even if it was something told in a whisper or under the relentless beating heat of the midday sun. You tell him about the nightmares about your mother, Moro as well as the human woman. You remembered warm nights and a light dress and bare feet and a house near the forest. A pair of lips that kissed you goodnight, so different from the silky fur that embraced you later. 

He tells you about Kaya, his bride-to-be, and shows you the beautiful, glittering crystal dagger on a resting day, when you are laying next to him in tall, waving grass. The clouds above you are fluffy and white, and Yakul is grazing not far from you. There was a crick in your neck and Ashitaka had pulled you to him, cushioning your head on his arm. 

As you look up at the clouds, the words about Kaya float into your head, swirling and drifting through your mind, before dissipating completely. Even though he always remembered everything you told him, treated every personal piece of information you gave him with care, you couldn’t bring yourself to remember a single detail about Kaya. The thought of her makes something ugly in the depths of your heart rear its head. 

The dagger is glittery, purple and blue and you can’t help but admire it - you’d never seen anything like it. Ashitaka sees your admiring gaze when he turns his head (so, so close to yours - inches away) and lets his hand fall from where he’d been holding the dagger to reflect the light of the sun, offering it to you. 

You take it in your hand, admiring the cool, glassy feel of it. 

Yakul comes over to the two of you, done grazing. When you sit up, Ashitaka helps you fasten it around your neck. 

-

Saying goodbye to Ashitaka is one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do. 

You don’t know, actually. You’d think so. 

 

Which is why you don’t.


	2. Chapter 2

Ashitaka sleeps lightly, always ready to wake up at a moments notice. You should have left as soon as as quickly as possible. 

Again, there wasn’t much for you to take. The clothes on your back, the dagger from the samurai, and the crystal dagger that Ashitaka had given you. And yet, you find yourself almost unable to leave him. You try to delude yourself into thinking that you really did have more things to pack but you eventually give up when you realize you’d lost track of time and had been gazing at Ashitaka for the past few minutes. Sighing, you let yourself fall back onto the ground, turned on your side to face him. 

His breaths were slow, calm and as your own breathing fell into rhythm with his you fought off the urge to sleep. To distract yourself, your eyes traced over his features. His light, sun kissed skin, his deceivingly delicate face - when he was asleep, his seemingly permanent furrowed brow and neutral frown disappeared and he was so beautiful. None of the strain of the living world could touch him and you loved that you were there to see _him_. You could never get tired of it.

 

But when the moon started to descend and you realized you’d stayed long past what you intended, you knew you’d been putting off what should have been done long ago - what you should have done. 

You don’t see him again until after Irontown falls. Until the Great Forest Spirit is gone, along with Moro, and you mourn. Not long enough, and you can see from the mountains that Irontown is rebuilding. A bitter admiration that burns in your heart. 

You hadn’t been with San when she had been taken by Lord Okkoto. You hadn’t been there when Ashitaka had saved her, when Moro had fallen, when your family had been struggling to protect the forest, your home. 

San, Ichi and Ni welcome you back and you can’t help but feel undeserving. (Guilt overwhelms you when the urge to return to Ashitaka floods you). 

(You didn’t know about Ashitaka’s promise to visit)

 

It was a lazy summer afternoon. Ichi was lazing under the shadow of a great, leafy beast of a tree deep in the forest. Sunlight dappled his sleek, white fur. His breaths were slow, calm and his flank moved steadily with each inhale. You were alternating between napping and relaxing on his side, his fur cushioning your body. San an Ni were off somewhere in the forest, probably chasing off yet another human who had tried to cut down the large beech tree close to the edge of the forest. Kodama had started to come back and they had taken residence in that tree - unfortunately it had drawn some attention from the neighboring humans who wanted to cut it down for lumber. 

A breeze came by, ruffling your hair and bringing a familiar scent of animal and furs and flint on the wind. 

“San?” You call out into the forest, still laying down on Ichi. He grumbles, and suddenly your head is on the ground and throbbing in pain. “Ugh, you - “

“Stop being lazy and get up.” Ichi growls and you roll your eyes. 

“Oh shut up, you’re a lazy bum, too.” There’s another warning growl, but with no real heart behind it, you don’t take it seriously.

There’s a flash of white and a familiar midnight blue cloth that mirrors your own dress. San’s form becomes clearer and clearer as she comes closer, weaving her way through the trees and foliage. 

As she approaches you, she slides up the new clay mask she’d made after the old one had been blown off by the woman of Irontown. Her brow is furrowed, her lips are pursed and while she does look a bit stressed all the time, she looks particularly troubled now. 

“You knew Ashitaka?” She hadn’t asked questions when you’d returned and something foreboding came along with her asking that question. 

“Uh - “

“He loves you.” San had never been one to beat around the bush; she knew what she wanted when she wanted it and she knew how to get it but that didn’t soften the weight of the statement and you wanted to shrink back into Ichi. San’s piercing blue eyes narrow fiercely, frustratedly. “It’s obvious enough that even Ni and Ichi can see it whenever he comes by - visits that you avoid, I’m not _stupid_ ,” She spits the word out, eyes merely angry slits at this point. 

“Why do you even _do_ that, it just hurts the both of you!” She growls and you try to defend yourself, but you find yourself feeble in the face of her anger. (Gods, you could kill a man without a bat of your eye but San inspired such a fear in you. She got it from Moro).

“Jus-just mate and be done with it!” San finally shouts, red in the face and you’re sure your own cheeks are flaming. 

Even Ichi and Ni look intensely uncomfortable, glancing at each other from the corner of their eyes and their ears are flattened against their skull. (Apparently in the look they shared they made a decision and the next thing you see are two white tails waving, then disappearing through the trees.)

San is looking at you, arms crossed in front of her chest. She lifts her chin, red in the face and a flash of regret (for this conversation, probably) flickers across her face; clearly embarrassed to be having this conversation with you. 

“Moro told me it was…normal for things like this to happen. It happens when you get older and its nothing to be ashamed of, all animals do it.” San shrugs: it’s no big deal. “Wolves mate for life and you’re my sister but if you truly care for the human…I won’t stop you. You wouldn’t listen to me, either way.” She mutters that but as soon as she had accepted you, a weight had lifted off your chest - a weight that had snuck up on and deposited itself on your heart months ago. 

You let a small, teary smile show. 

 

The sun is just barely touching down onto the horizon when you make it to the outskirts of Irontown, right on the shore. You’d never been there before, on the sand, and you like the way it squishes under your feet and between your toes. You wander the beach, letting the remaining sunlight warm your back while fiddling with the crystal dagger at your neck. 

 

You don’t know how long, but some time passes and there’s suddenly a presence at your side, walking alongside you down the shore. 

They take your hand. 

Your heart is hammering in your chest. Their hand completely envelopes yours. It is not clammy, but warm and rough - callouses, and there are some on your palm as well. (Your hands fit perfectly, you think)

“Ashitaka.”


End file.
